


Adrift Among Open Stars

by Flynne



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Ficlet Collection, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23452222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flynne/pseuds/Flynne
Summary: Short fics and prompts about Saul Shepard, most including Tali.
Relationships: Male Shepard/Tali'Zorah nar Rayya
Kudos: 9





	1. In Memoriam

**Author's Note:**

> No archive warnings apply, but the first chapter takes place after Virmire. There is canonical character death.

_ I cannot rest from travel; I will drink _

_ Life to the lees _

Saul Shepard stared at the words on his omni-tool’s display until his vision blurred. He rubbed his burning eyes with his finger and thumb, taking slow breaths in an attempt to rein in his grief. 

He was no stranger to losing soldiers in battle. In spite of the victory of the Blitz that had shoved him into the public eye, too many good marines had died before the attack had been repelled. Jenkins’ death on Eden Prime was still fresh in his mind. But it had never been so personal before. Never before had he been forced to choose between friends. 

_ How dull it is to pause, to make an end _

_ To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use! _

He’d  _ had _ to go back for Kaidan. They’d  _ had _ to destroy the base. At least, he’d thought so at the time. Now, knowing the truth about Sovereign, Saul wasn’t sure. Destroying the facility felt like a hollow victory in light of the looming threat of the Reapers. 

His throat still ached from Saren’s taloned grip. Angry bruises were already blooming, visible even against his dark skin. 

_ Death closes all: but something ere the end, _

_ Some work of noble note may yet be done.  _

There would be a memorial for Ashley later, but Saul had felt the need to do something for her on his own. So he’d looked up her poem and had tried to read it aloud, but he’d made it only a few lines before his voice failed him.  _ I don’t regret a thing _ , she’d said, but he wondered if she’d truly meant it, and he couldn’t ask her now. She’d also told him that things happened for a reason, including his presence on Eden Prime. The memory was a knife in his gut; he and his team had arrived just in time to save her but it was another hollow victory, because now she was dead.

_ The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep _

_ Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, _

_ ‘T is not too late to seek a newer world _

Saul deactivated his omni-tool, blinking in the dim light of his cabin until the after-image faded from his eyes. Tennyson may have brought comfort to Ashley, but not to him. His gaze drifted to his footlocker, and after a moment of thought, he moved to kneel in front of it. Tucked carefully into the corner was a small box, smoothly polished wooden surface gleaming as he lifted it out. 

His dark blue kippah lay atop the folds of his grandmother’s prayer shawl. He hadn’t worn the small round cap in a long time, and he’d never donned the shawl. His grandmother had insisted on sending it with him when he’d enlisted, speaking over his protests with an impatient wave of her hand:  _ “What sort of rabbi would I be if I couldn’t do my job without a piece of cloth? Humor me, bubelah. Take it with you. I’ll get another.” _ So he’d complied, folding the white fabric carefully inside its box and carrying it with him. He’d seldom gotten it out over the years, but just knowing it he had it with him during his bleaker moments had given him a measure of peace when he’d needed it most. 

He set the kippah back in the box, but held the shawl in his hands. Thinking of his grandmother made him wish she were there - but she was light-years away, and grief and loneliness constricted his chest so tightly he could hardly breathe. He took an unsteady breath and opened his mouth, unsure of what he meant to say. When the words finally came, his Hebrew was hesitant and uncertain from long disuse, but as he continued, they began to come more easily. He murmured the mourner’s Kaddish to himself, the gentle cadence of the words drifting softly into the quiet corners of his cabin. 

_ Push off, and sitting well in order smite  _

_ The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds _

_ To sail beyond the sunset _

He finished the prayer, his voice trailing off into silence as he gently threaded his fingers through the soft tassels that edged the shawl. It wasn’t how the Kaddish was meant to be said. He was by himself with no one to hear him and respond, and he didn’t know for certain what faith Ashley followed. Aside from her mentioning that she believed in a higher power earlier in their acquaintance, the subject hadn’t come up again. And, truth be told, he wasn’t sure what  _ he _ believed now, after everything he’d seen and learned about the universe. He would ask his grandmother about it the next time he spoke to her, but he couldn’t imagine that she would be displeased. The prayer had comforted him and he thought Ashley would have appreciated it all the same, no matter what she’d believed. 

The light on his comm flared in the corner of his vision, and Joker’s voice, uncharacteristically subdued, came through.  _ “Commander? Doc says that Kaidan is okay and ready for the briefing. Should I have everyone meet in the comm room?” _

“Yes, thanks, Joker,” Saul replied. “And tell Captain Kirrahe I’ll speak with him after I contact the Council.”

_ “Right, Commander.” _

Saul took a long breath, carefully folding the shawl as he put it away. His grief was not less, but it had at least made room for solace.

He rose to his feet and squared his shoulders. The next breath he took came a little more easily, and he strode determinedly toward the door. He had work to do. 

_ We are not now that strength which in old days _

_ Moved heaven and earth; that which we are, we are;  _

_ One equal temper of heroic hearts, _

_ Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will _

_ To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. _


	2. Hello and Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saul and Tali have just enough time to touch base before leaving the empty remains of Freedom’s Progress.

“Shepard, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Tali asked, low and earnest. “This is _Cerberus_.”

Saul sighed. “I know.” Out of sight within the empty pre-fab, he let his shoulders sag, the first sign of weariness he’d let himself show since being rattled back to awareness on Lazarus Station. “I’m _not_ sure,” he admitted. “Not the way I was when we went after Saren. But after what I’ve seen here, I can’t walk away yet.”

Tali finished gathering up the remnants of the medical kit she’d used and snapped the lid closed. “I have to take Veetor back to the flotilla,” she said, speaking even more quietly, “and I have my mission, so I can’t go with you. But you could come with us. We could drop you off at the Citadel.”

Saul smiled sadly. “If I hadn’t seen Veetor’s footage, I might have taken you up on that.” 

She relaxed a little. “That’s good to hear. At first I wasn’t sure if you’d be free to leave.”

“I think I would be,” he replied slowly. “At least…they’ve _said_ I could. I think they meant it,” he added, hearing Tali’s derisive snort. He glanced toward the open door, but they were still alone, out of sight of both Tali’s team and Miranda and Jacob. “Miranda’s made it clear that she doubts my loyalty - ”

“Because you _aren’t_ loyal to Cerberus,” Tali cut in.

“I’m not,” he agreed. “But she’s also been honest with me.” _To a fault,_ he added silently, shivering a little as he recalled her admission that she’d have put a control chip in his head if she’d had her way. “I don’t trust her, but she hasn’t lied to me.”

“Yet,” Tali said darkly.

In spite of Tali’s stubborn pessimism, Saul grinned. “Yet.”

Tali set down her kit and stepped forward to give him a fierce hug, armor and all. “Watch your back, Shepard. You don’t have us around to watch it for you.”

The passage of time hadn’t touched Saul. To him, his last breath in the vacuum of space and his first breath aboard Lazarus Station had been separated by the blink of an eye. But he’d died in fire and awakened in fire, and there had been no rest, and without warning he felt the weight of every day of the past two years come crashing down onto his shoulders. He returned Tali’s hug, but it was less of an embrace than a sudden desperate need to anchor himself to something familiar. 

But Miranda and Jacob were waiting and Tali’s team was ready to depart, so he kept the hug brief. When he let go and stepped back, he did his best to smile. “I’ll do my best.”

He couldn’t see Tali’s expression through the frosted faceplate of her helmet, but he could hear the smile in her voice as well as she replied. “That’s good enough for me.” Then, more softly: “I’m very glad you’re alive, Shepard.”

This time, his smile came more easily. “Take care of yourself, Tali.”

The pang of loneliness Saul felt as he walked away was startling in its intensity, and he was hard-pressed to keep his expression composed as he rejoined his companions. “We have what we need,” he said, striding past Miranda. “Let’s go.”

He allowed himself a brief look over his shoulder as he stepped into the shuttle. Tali had glanced back as well, and her luminous eyes caught his gaze for a fleeting moment before the door slid closed. Both shuttles idled for a moment before they lifted into the air, flying off in different directions into the low-hanging, leaden sky.


	3. Visotactile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr word prompt.
> 
> Visotactile: involving both touch and vision

“You know,” Tali said drowsily, “I’ve always thought that skylight was a stupid idea.”

“Hmm…wha?” Saul blinked his eyes open, staring hazily up at the skylight in question. It took him a while to focus. He wasn’t really sure how long it had been since the _Normandy_ had slingshotted back through the Omega 4 relay to safety. There had been a whirlwind of triage and damage control - both for the ship and the crew - and he’d been hovering in a half-awake daze ever since he and Tali had made their way to his cabin at long last and stumbled into bed.

“A skylight,” she repeated, appearing not to notice his confusion. “On a frigate. Stupid.”

The gears in Saul’s brain clanked sluggishly while he tried to think of an answer. “Um. Yuh.” Good enough.

A half-muffled laugh at his uncharacteristic mumbling reached his ears, then her voice came again, softer. “Saul? Are you awake?”

“Yeah. Yes,” he said, making the effort to speak clearly this time. He tilted his head to look at her where she lay curled against him. Her head was against his shoulder, and even though the fingers of his left hand were starting to go numb from the pressure of her helmet against his arm, he hugged her closer against his side.

She hugged him in return and shifted to drape her arm across his chest. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I was awake. At least, I think I was.” He patted her arm briefly, but didn’t withdraw his hand, leaving his fingers resting lightly on the band of purple cloth just above her elbow. The fabric was as soft as it looked, so it had surprised him how solid and heavy she was the first time he’d held her. _“This suit isn’t just built for looks, you know,”_ she’d said, laughing at him. _“It would be pretty worthless if it ruptured every time I bumped into something.”_

He slowly traced the embroidered swirls with the pads of his fingers, the fine thread curling in barely-perceptible whorls across her arm. Thread over cloth over armor over solid flesh and bone. Layers over layers between his palm and her skin, but they didn’t feel like barriers. Somehow it made her feel closer, her impression on his awareness and his body more present, more real than the mattress beneath them or the padded stiffness of the shipsuit he’d been too exhausted to remove before crawling into bed.

The fabric was beneath his other hand, too, sweeping in a wide band around her ribs, and he could feel the curls and waves there as well, the curve of her waist. She sighed, body rising and falling against his palm, and looked up at him. This close to her, he could see her smile through her frosted faceplate, the outline of her glowing irises as she met his eyes.

He slid his hand down her arm, wrapping his fingers around hers and holding their joined hands over his heart. The specters of Bahak and the looming threat of the Reapers chased after him like a pack of wolves hounding him forward to a dark, uncertain future, but right then, all he could see, all he could feel, all that mattered was Tali, and it was surprisingly easy to let everything else fade away. “I love you,” he said softly.

“So you’ve told me,” she said cheekily. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.” He knew she was thinking about the uncertain road before them as well - but she, too, let the unanswered questions fall into the background; she curled a little closer, held his hand a little tighter, centered her gaze on him and murmured, “I love you, too.”


	4. Hoping Not to be Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: a hiding/hoping not to be caught kiss

There was absolutely no room to fidget in the cramped geth fighter, but Saul couldn’t suppress the urge to shift his weight. His armored shoulder made a faint screech as it grated against the bulkhead. He winced and aborted the movement. Sitting ahead of him at the helm, Legion made no indication that they had heard.

Tali’s hand curled around his wrist. He couldn’t feel the touch through his armor but it warmed him all the same, and he smiled at her through the visor of his helmet.

He _should_ be furious; should be composing an incensed lecture for the quarian admirals, but in spite of the battle outside and the close call as the dreadnought disintegrated into fiery rubble around him, all he could feel was a giddy rush of elation that Tali was beside him again. Aside from a too-short withdrawal to his cabin where they could speak privately and where he could finally, _finally_ hold her in his arms the way he’d been aching to, they’d kept their conduct professional since she had come aboard the _Normandy_. But their comms and actions hadn’t been monitored once they’d departed for the dreadnought, so with only Garrus as an amused and longsuffering witness to their communications, they’d let their cautious professionalism fall by the wayside, and the freedom of just being _themselves_ had managed to lift his spirits at a time when he’d ordinarily be angry and frustrated.

“Shepard Commander, we are ready to dock,” Legion said.

There was a disorienting shift as the windowless fighter banked, and Garrus let out a wordless grumble as he braced himself against the wall.

“You’d better let me get out before you do,” Saul warned. “Most of the crew in the cargo bay won’t recognize you.”

“Understood.” Legion landed the fighter with flawless precision, and Garrus let out a sigh of relief as he unfolded his tall frame from the narrow compartment.

Saul made to follow him, but Tali tugged sharply on his wrist, and as he turned to face her, she hissed, “Take off your helmet.”

He lifted his eyebrows but complied without question or delay, popped the seals on his helmet, and tugged it off, looking back to Tali just in time to see her remove her faceplate. She pushed forward, leaning in to press her mouth briefly but firmly against his. He caught a glimpse of her smile and brilliant eyes before she snapped the plate back in place.

“You’ll get in so much trouble if the other admirals find out you opened your suit in a war zone,” he whispered with a teasing grin.

Her eyes narrowed at him playfully. “Then it’s a good thing nobody saw us.” She gave his shoulder a shove. “Now get out before everyone starts to wonder if you got stuck in here.”

Saul chuckled and squeezed her hand, climbing out of the ship as she followed close behind.


End file.
